To Choose a Consort
by Thevaen
Summary: Thorin had to choose a consort. He knew that, and he also knew he didn't want a consort that was not the Hobbit. Bilbo in turn, knew he was more than a little envious of those that got the chance to present themselves in front of the Dwarven King, and if he was being really honest, he really wanted to take on the spot himself. It seems only meddling Dwarves can solve this.


**I really need more summary space on ff. Due to this, I will probably not post all my Bagginshield fics here, but on A03.**

**Enjoy, and comments and critique are appreciated!**

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He was floating, dreaming that he was flying high in the skies, carried on the back of the mighty Lord of Eagles himself. The feathers were soft and sturdy beneath his hands; warm as he buried his hands beneath them for a stronger grip on the stems. ''Don't pinch!'' The Lord of Eagles said. ''You need not be frightened like a rabbit, even if you look rather like one. It is a fair morning with little wind. What is finer that flying?'' Very little, there was. Even as his vision swam when he looked down, even as his limbs lost feeling and his eyes teared up from the cold chill from being up so high; Bilbo Baggins had no choice but to admit it was a wondrous feeling indeed.

But the Lord of Eagles started to descend at an alarming speed then. His grip on the feathers tightened and he opened his mouth to yelp. The Eagle opened his beak and let out a pained screech, before speaking again, with a voice not his own.

''Laddie.''

Bilbo jolted awake, rapidly blinking his sleep away and fighting the fierce blush that crept up his face. Next to him sat Balin, giving a reprimanding look.

''Sorry.'' Bilbo muttered, casting his eyes away in guilt because really, falling asleep was already embarrassing enough as it was, but to do so during the hours that consorts got to present themselves to the King? He could not blame Balin for openly showing him his disapproval. He let his eyes roam across the room, forcing himself to focus on the present matter at hand instead of the guilt churning in his guts.

It had been no longer than a month when the first... _ahem..._ candidates, presented themselves. He had been quite surprised at first, to hear an oddly high voice coming from the bearded person in he had met back then, and it had taken him a few moments before he realized it was in fact a woman. Smaller than most male Dwarves, yet still taller than him. He was uncomfortably aware of the way the Dwarves that came from far for various reasons eyed him. None of them had ever seen a Hobbit and he had no doubt some of them thought him to just be an odd and beardless Dwarf.

He rubbed his chin, absentmindedly feeling for a stubble. Of course not. He had more chance of beating Dwalin at arm wrestling than growing a beard. He scoffed. Yes he was rather conscious of the fact that even the female dwarfs had more facial hair than he would ever have. His eyes glanced up as Balin stood after the twenty minute break and picked up his position next to the throne again. Thorin, seated in the throne carved so deftly from stone, leaned down to ask something in Khuzdul, but even with the lessons Bilbo had been getting he was nowhere near understanding them. Both Dwarves nodded and Balin signed the guard. The large doors were opened, stone scraping over stone and causing the surface beneath Bilbo's feet to vibrate, no matter how little. He wiggled his toes at the almost ticklish sensation and looked at the first Dwarf to enter the room.

If Bilbo Baggins never expected to see a Dwarven woman, he certainly did not expect to see multiple, day after day. It had been weeks since the first group had arrived. Three times a week were they allowed to see Thorin. Three times a week did they have the chances to flatter themselves into King's heart. Bilbo found it ridiculous. Not them wanting to be Thorin's consort, he could quite see why one would want that, mind you. He just wasn't at all fond of the concept. For a King to have to choose his consort based on how well they presented themselves seemed unfair to both parties. And while he was aware he did not share the standards of beauty with the Dwarves even to him all these Dwarves seemed...lacking. Too simple. Too thin. Too tall. Too extravagant. Obnoxious. Weird jaw. Hair color looked awful next to Thorin. Entire person looked awful next to Thorin. Plenty of reasons that none of them seemed like a proper Dwarf for Thorin.

It was not envy that left him to make such observations, truly. It was an entirely neutral point of view.

Now if only he really believed that.

He cursed the wave of relief that washed over him as yet another Dwarf left without the success of sparking a light in Thorin's eyes. His eyes scanned over the King, looking for any signs that he thought he'd found someone who he'd be willing to share his future with today. But the Dwarf looked indifferent, bored even as he spoke with Balin and eyed the female who, not unsubtly, left with a sway in her hips that left no questions about whether it was intentional or not. Bilbo scoffed and shook his head in disapproval. When he looked back to the throne his eyes met Thorin's and his heart jumped when the Dwarf motioned for him to approach.

He stood, taking a quick moment to arch his back and let out a sigh of relief. Truth be told, he wasn't sure why he was required to be there on days like these. Perhaps Thorin really did appreciate the opinion of a race different than his own, but somewhere in the back of his mind Bilbo doubted this; yet he couldn't phantom as to why else Thorin insisted on his presence either.

''Was that the last of them?'' Bilbo inquired in a tone polite as he could master, nodding at Balin as the Elder Dwarf passed.

Thorin nodded. ''Yes. You can search a proper bed now if you wish.''

Bilbo suppressed a groan but before he could apologize Thorin raised his hand. He waited a few more moments until he was sure Balin was out of hearing distance before he let out a sigh, slumped down and flashed Bilbo an amused smile.

''I can't say I longed for these days.''

''At least you get to sit. Imagine the strain on those poor Dwarves. I imagine there went quite the practice into those hips.''

The hearty chuckle that left Thorin's lips caused his chest to flutter. He grinned at the Dwarf, shy but not at all without smugness.

Thorin stood, a strained sigh escaping him much like it had with the Hobbit. He gestured for the Hobbit to follow him and they settled into a comfortable pace and silence as they walked through the halls of Erebor; both males nodding politely whenever a Dwarf passed. It had felt odd at the beginning, to walk so freely next to Thorin, now the true King Under the Mountain. But he had long since gotten used to the only odd looks coming from those who had only recently ventured into the mountain, and he'd learned they knew better than to question the company of a King. Thorin seemed set on having him there as well, always inquiring about his whereabouts whenever he was not there, something he may have done intentionally several times to see if Thorin would notice.

''You really ought to look more interested, or at least pretend.'' Bilbo started, giving the Dwarf a slap against his arm at the look he received. ''Stop being such a child.''

Thorin smiled. ''They don't know me the way you do.'' A flutter exploded in the Hobbit's chest at the words. ''I doubt if there's anyone who is quite so skilled at interpreting expressions as you Master Baggins.''

Bilbo had been rendered useless in terms of thinking and talking, too focused on the feeling in his chest and the heat that he was sure to be visible on his face in the form of a blush. As such, it took him a few moments of stuttering out broken syllables before he regained his voice.

''And you need to find someone who does just that, so start by stopping to look like such a royal arse.''

Thorin laughed, low and rumbling and honest. It sparked another blossoming in Bilbo's chest. He cleared his throat.

''Well, as much fun as today was, I promised Ori I'd go over some more Hobbintish with him. ''

Thorin nodded, finding it no longer odd and instead approved of the young Dwarf's interest in the Halfling's script of the common tongue.

''When will the next ba-'' He cleared his throat. '' _Erhm_, group of volunteers, present themselves?'' _Bilbo Baggins you did __not__ just almost refer to them as a __batch__ in front of the King. _The amused glimmer in Thorin's eyes went unnoticed while he silently scolded himself.

''Not until tomorrow morning. Scheduled after... Elevenses.''

Bilbo laughed at the effort it took for the Dwarf to speak the latter word. It had become a rather quickly accepted concept within the company during their travels, but even after all this time Thorin seemed to be in doubt as whether to accept it or not. Yet he adapted, and Bilbo would be lying if he said it didn't make his chest swell in an odd sense of appreciation.

''I'll see you there then.''

He and Thorin bowed their head simultaneously and flashed each other another brief smile before parting. But even as Thorin was at a considerable distance, even when he could no longer hear the shuffle of his boots or the soft _swish _of his cloak, even then, his smile did not falter.

He had long since stopped denying to himself that he was more than just fond of the Dwarf. This stubborn, dense and oblivious idiot, whom he had shared so many adventures with, who could be as rude and fierce as he could be gentle and affectionate; he had come to love the Dwarf for all his traits, be they good or bad.

As such, he was relieved time and time again that a possible consort was rejected.

It took all he had to cover his grin the next morning when Thorin didn't even _try_ to hide his discomfort at the way the Dwarf in front of him presented himself. Even Dwalin had nothing on this man. He didn't think he'd ever see someone so fond of their own muscles. The King shifted in his seat before politely dismissing the Dwarf, casting a brief glance at Bilbo that reminded the Hobbit of the looks Fili and Kili sent each other whenever they thought the same. It seemed that once the war was over, the true face of Durin's line showed itself. No matter how old, mischief did not leave their hearts and veins.

His smile dropped when the doors opened again, and from it appeared a female Dwarf prettier than any. Raven black hair draped over her shoulders in a soft wave of gentle curls, covering the sides of a beard neatly trimmed to accentuate the sharp jaw lines of her face. Her lips curved upward into a smile that was proud and confident, but also gentle. Thorin stiffened visibly and Bilbo couldn't help but feel anxious, even more so as the woman's eyes left Thorin's, only to lock with his. She stared at him for a brief moment before bowing her head and turning her attention back to the Dwarf shifting in his seat. Bilbo searched for Balin's eyes, but he too was fixed on the woman in front of them, with a look of fondness and amusement and something else, something the Hobbit couldn't put his finger on.

''Thorin.''

He was jolted from his thoughts at the way the Dwarven female spoke so freely to him. She raised her chin. ''I trust things are going well?''

Thorin gave a stiff nod and her smile widened. '''Good. I spoke Fili and Kili. They seem eager to tell their tales of bravery.'' The words could have been degrading, but she spoke them gentle enough, although not entirely without the hint of a scolding and Bilbo concluded they must be rather well acquainted if she could speak to him as such.

''They fought well.''

_Old friends perhaps? Lovers?_ Bilbo shifted uncomfortably on his feet.

''Oh I'm sure they did, if not recklessly. I'm rather surprised to see them in one piece.''

''I promised I would watch over them.'' Thorin's voice grew louder in defense of his pride.

''And you did.'' She spoke, softer and more gently than before. Her shoulders slumped down and she bowed her head in appreciation, as was Dwarven custom. ''Thank you.''

''They're my nephews. I would never let harm come to them.''

He and the female Dwarf smiled at each other then, a fond and gentle smile that both warmed Bilbo's heart yet made his gut churn anxiously.

''Well,'' She spoke up, louder and happier than before, and she clasped her hands together in front of her chest. ''I will see the boys. I expect to see you soon. ''

She bowed at them before turning with far more grace Bilbo had expected to ever see in a Dwarf. He watched her in silence, lost in thought, painfully aware of the unpleasant churning of his guts and the obvious envy nestling itself in the back of his head. It was not until the doors closed behind her that Thorin let out a massive sigh of relief and slumped down, and Balin let out a hearty laugh.

''Mahal...'' He spoke something low under his breath before he turned to Balin. ''Why was I not informed she had arrived?''

''She asked us not to.''

''Of course she did.'' Thorin huffed and he let out another sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose.

Bilbo awkwardly cleared his throat, reluctant to ask the question he might not want to hear the answer to.

''You know her then?''

Balin let out a laugh. ''Oh yes, he knows her alright.''

''That, Master Baggins,'' Thorin looked up at Bilbo with a mix of emotions in his eyes. ''Was my sister.''

Bilbo was too baffled to speak for several moments as he processed the words. When he did, he laughed.

''Your sister? You looked terrified.''

Balin laughed again and Thorin grumbled, unamused by the obvious fact that indeed, he was. It was Balin to speak for him.

''Aye, Dís rather has that affect.''

But Bilbo laughed for more than just the joy of seeing Thorin so uncomfortable. He was more than just a little relieved. His smile faltered slightly and he excused himself to Thorin, who had already started to argue with Balin about his sister. His feet padded softly against the stone beneath his feet as he walked the long distance and he briefly wondered how uncomfortable it must be to walk such length under the staring eyes of Thorin Oakenshield. He suppressed a shiver.

It was unrealistic, he knew, for him to be wishing to take a more...affectionate spot next to Thorin. He doubted even his stubbornness would be able to breach the duties of a King, the duties that involved a consort who was not a Hobbit. More than once he'd been on the brink of telling Thorin. Spurred on by Balin's knowing look after yet another consort was kindly rejected he would part his lips, but every time Thorin's eyes met his he lost the words on his tongue

''So,''

''Gah!'' Bilbo jumped, clutching his tunic and pressing his hand against the loud pounding against his chest. Around the corner, leaning against the stone walls with her arms folded across her chest, stood the female Dwarf he now knew to be Thorin's sister, an amused grin plastered on her face. He could see who Fili and Kili took after.

''You must be the Hobbit my sons told me about.''

He stuttered out a few syllables before clearing his throat and straightening the tunic Thorin had him made months prior. ''Yes, that would indeed be me.''

She let out a laugh. ''No need to be frightened Mister Baggins. I simply wanted to get acquainted.''

She extended her hand and he took it. Her shake was firmer and stronger than he would have expected, yet in the back of his mind he knew he shouldn't be surprised. She was a Dwarf after all.

''Dis, was it?''

''Dís, yes.'' She corrected him.

''Dís,'' He spoke, trying to pronounce it correctly but finding the change odd on his tongue. ''Bilbo Baggins, as you probably already know. It's very nice to meet you.''

She bowed her head and he mimicked her. Mere minutes and she was already more easygoing than Thorin. He had a feeling he'd like her. He clasped his hands behind his back and smiled up at her politely.

''So, I suppose you're here for your sons?''

''Among other things, yes.'' She spoke as she extended her hand in a silent invitation for him to walk with her.

''Would making Thorin squirm in his seat be one of the others?''

She laughed again, the sound clear and light and pleasant, but still with the hint of a rough edge that was so custom for Dwarves.

''I have to admit, it's rather a hobby of mine.'' The corner of her mouth curved upward into a smug grin.

''Well then I hope you will stay for a long while longer.'' He smiled.

''Mother!''

They looked up to see Kíli jogging towards them, lips curved upward into a wide smile.

''I see you met Bilbo.'' He slowed to a halt and looked between either of them with the smile still on his face.

For a brief moment Bilbo thought he saw a look shared between the two, but it was gone before he could be sure. Dís turned to him.

''I do plan to stay, for however long needed. With that said, I still have much to discuss with my sons.''

''Oh of course, of course. '' Bilbo nodded in understanding. Dís excused herself with a polite bow of the head that Bilbo answered before she nodded at Kíli and the two walked to where the young Dwarf had come from.

''Well?'' Kíli whispered. ''What do you think?''

''I think,'' She spoke amusement evident in her voice. ''I think you and Fili were right.''

The smug grin on Kíli's face let no questioning on his pride on the matter. ''So, Bilbo or Thorin?''

''Kíli.''

''Oh come on Mother! What's the harm?''

She sighed. ''I do not approve of you lot betting on who makes the first move. Who started this anyway?''

''Balin.''

She shook her head and gave him a look. ''You have to lie better than that.''

He let out a defeated sigh and threw his hands up, but winced at the sharp look his mother gave him.

''Alright, Fíli and me. But you saw him, you heard the tales! Besides, the entire company already put in their share.'' He flashed her a smug grin.

''They had a bad influence on you two.''

He opened his mouth to retort, grin never faltering, but before he could his mother raised her hand to cut him off. She stared at him for a few moments before she let out a sigh.

''Alright, I'm in- and wipe that smug grin off your face.''

There was something very different, Bilbo thought two days later, as he took up his spot on the right of Thorin's throne for that week's last day for the consorts to bring themselves forward. Most of the times, the Dwarves were about as diverse as could be. Today seemed oddly dull, as Dwarf after Dwarf came in, all resembling their predecessor. Shorter than most Dwarves, with beards not nearly as impressive as the ones he had gotten used to; receded to only frame their jaw lines. Their hair fell in brown locks, almost resembling honey under the glow of the torches that burned around them. It seemed he was not the only on to notice, for Thorin kept giving both him and Balin questioning glances. Yet his interest was spiked, that much was clear. While he still kept on a rather regal expression it was also more open and less bored; though Bilbo doubted the Dwarves would see the difference; As Thorin had pointed out several days prior. But there was something else, something Bilbo couldn't quite put his finger on. It made him feel uneasy.

He kept a close eye on Thorin. While the Dwarf looked less bored he also looked...distressed. He seemed to know what Bilbo did not, and he didn't like it; absentmindedly and furrowing his eyebrows together at wherever it was his train of thought led him. Bilbo was confused and nervous, because even if it _seemed_ Thorin was not pleased, who was to say he was not simply waging his options? It was obvious he was conflicted, and that alone was very different from the usual indifference. The Hobbit shifted the weight on his feet awkwardly, picking up his own habit of rubbing his fingers together at his sides as he mused on whether to say or do something.

''Thank you.'' Thorin's voice snapped him from his thoughts and he all but whirled his head to the King, who bowed his head politely at the Dwarf in front of him. He too, was dismissed, but Bilbo could no longer tell what went on in Thorin's mind. When the Dwarf disappeared behind the door Thorin raised his hand in a silent gesture for the door to stay closed. He let out a sigh.

''Balin.''

''There's quite a lot of them.''

''Make them feel at home. Tell them I will be with them shortly to apologize in person.''

Balin nodded. Bilbo moved to follow the Dwarf, imagining Thorin wanted to be alone. But Thorin's fingers brushed against his shoulder as the Dwarf reached out, not quite able to reach him. ''Not you, Master Baggins.''

''Are you sure? If you need time to think I'd hate to-''

''I am sure.'' Thorin flashed him a small smile.

A silence followed, continued even as the door closed. Thorin's brows were furrowed together in a frown.

''Today's Dwarves were exceptionally...'' Bilbo started.

''Yes.''

''Any of them catching your eye?''

''Not quite.'' He stood, motioning for the Hobbit to follow him.

''Thorin, you are going to have to choose a consort.'' Bilbo scolded as he increased his pace to keep up with Thorin's longer strides.

''You're sounding more and more like Balin.'' Thorin said in mock annoyance.

''That's because he's right. Don't get me wrong, I greatly enjoy sitting here next to you day after day and would love nothing more than to sit here every day on this bloody stone but,'' His expression changed from joking to serious, and Thorin couldn't help but be reminded of the scolding he'd gotten from the Hobbit on the wall so long ago. ''You are King now. Your job is to restore the kingdom and as far as I understand, to help in this, you need to accept a consort, whether you like it or not.''

He expected a sassy response, any response would have sufficed really. But instead Thorin had stopped in his track halfway through Bilbo's sentence and turned to him, staring at him with a look far more intense and indefinable than Bilbo was used to deciphering. Bilbo felt a flutter in his stomach and his heart rate picked up significantly. He quirked an eyebrow in questioning, but still Thorin did not respond. His eyes darted, seemingly searching for something he couldn't find in the Hobbit's expression. The silence dragged on and on still, but the air between them had shifted to an almost palpable tension. The faintest of smiles appeared on Thorin's lips, small and fond and genuine.

''You enjoy sitting next to me?''

At first Bilbo wanted to point out that he had been sarcastic, that Thorin was failing at changing the subject. But there was something about the way Thorin's eyes kept searching his, and the slight shifting of weight and a quick lick of dry lips in what could only be nerves and anticipation, that he realized this was something else, something he did not at all wanted to interrupt. He swallowed, suddenly awfully aware of how dry his throat was.

''Thorin-''

Thorin took a small step towards him, small yet big enough to make Bilbo forget what he was going to say.

''Would you be so kind as to elaborate on that?'' Thorin inquired, not unkindly or with the threat of a command, but almost cautious, nervous.

Bilbo was unable to respond for a few moments, the only signs that showed he had heard being the nervous darting of his eyes and the flexing of his hands at his sides. Yet there was a split second of courage, a split second realization that this could quite possibly be the only chance he would get to tell the Dwarf how he felt. Mahal take him if he did it _after_ Thorin had chosen his consort.

''Bilbo?''

He looked up with a jolt. ''Right.'' He nodded. ''Right. Okay. Yes, I enjoy sitting next to you. Quite a lot actually, and I would for far longer even if the stone does something horrible to my behind, I'll never understand how you Dwarves manage it and I'd almost feel bad for the Dwarf who has to sit there for the rest of their lives. If, '' he inhaled. ''If I didn't want to sit there myself.''

It was only a brief silence that followed, for Bilbo couldn't stop, didn't want to stop now that he started. ''You are stubborn, so, so stubborn. You're dense, incredibly rude from a Hobbit's perspective, and Elves' I imagine. To people who don't know you, you probably seem like a royal arse; with your temper and your tendency to hold grudges _forever._''

''Bilbo.''

''Right. But you're more than that. You're also proud and brave, and far more generous and affectionate one would imagine, and you're Fierce and warm like both a comfortable duvet and the fire burning in your forges. You even _smell _ like them did you know that?'' He inhaled again, all but gasping for breath. ''What I'm trying to say is, I've grown fond of you Thorin. Very fond, and while I'm aware it must be quite unorthodox, I would like to present myself as a possible consort, if you'd have me.''

The silence that followed was only broken by Bilbo's ragged breathing and the loud beating of his heart. _I just threw up word vomit equivalent to three meals._ _Wonderful. _Thorin was still looking at Bilbo. Still those blue eyes held him in place. Still they searched. When at last those lips parted, Bilbo was unable to suppress the sharp intake of breath.

''A duvet?''

He cursed. He spat out words he'd picked up from Dwalin. Words he didn't even know what they meant and were probably pronounced far from correctly. And Thorin only laughed, a laugh rich with happiness and genuine in nature. From the depth of his chest it came, and it echoed against the stone and shook him to the core. When it finally died down he was left with a large smile playing on his lips, and Bilbo with red ears and eyes that shot fire.

But then the air between them shifted again, faster than he could gasp or curse again, and then Thorin's lips were on his. Warm, slightly chapped, but soft and _moving_ and Bilbo felt his head grow light and his body sway. He reached up, gently clutching on to the sleeves of Thorin's garment for support. He leaned in, his shoulders slumping down in the relief of the knowledge of requited feelings. But Thorin pulled back, too soon, leaving Bilbo's lips to feel colder than they had been before. Instead of stepping back however, he gently pressed his forehead against the Hobbit's. A silence settled again, less tense and more endurable. Thorin's hands settled themselves on Bilbo's form, one clasping his shoulder and the other cupping the side of his face in a soft and gentle touch that felt hot against his skin. The Dwarf's warm breath ghosted over his face, and the close proximity of him brought with it the scent of fire and soil, of metal and leather. The Hobbit closed his eyes.

''I should push you off the edge for being such an arse.''

''But you won't.'' He placed his lips against Bilbo's forehead.

Bilbo smiled and pressed against Thorin's head with a bit more force. ''No, I won't.''

Another few moments of silence followed before Bilbo spoke again. ''Those Dwarves...''

''What of them?'' Thorin said and the arm on Bilbo's shoulder moved to wrap itself around his smaller form.

Bilbo's brows furrowed together. ''I still can't place my finger on what it was that made them seem so... different.''

It took a while before Thorin answered, before Bilbo felt the lips on his forehead and the soft vibrations of the murmur against his skin. ''Me neither.''

Yet Thorin's eyes knew more, as, unbeknownst to Bilbo, they shifted to the door that never quite closed. In the small opening stood Dís, arms folded across her chest and a smug yet fond smile playing on her lips. She bowed her head, and Thorin cast his eyes down to mimic the gesture the best he could without disrupting their embrace. His sister's smile widened, before she silently slipped between the opening and disappeared behind the door.

The Dwarves welcomed remained so, allowed to stay for as long as they wanted as honored guests, for the King had chosen his consort. Later that day, Dís collected the winnings; for she had bet it would have to be an outside force before either would speak up. It would not be many a month later that Bilbo would learn the Dwarves that presented themselves that day had been rudely selected to resemble him, and that Dís experienced the scorn of a Hobbit.


End file.
